You Don't Prank Emma Swan
by PerhapsImInsane
Summary: Hook makes one fatal mistake. T for Emma's angry cussing.


Hook was well aware that he might not survive this encounter. He knew he would not escape unharmed. This could quite possibly be the most dangerous thing he had ever hoped to accomplish, but if he could pull it off, it would be worth it. Hook waited silently, knowing he couldn't provoke the beast. He knew his moment would come.

Sure enough, it began to stir. It groaned, then opened its eyes, and the beast gave a shriek of terror. It rolled off its resting place and fell to the ground. Hook collapsed on the ground, unable to contain his laughter.

"Hook, you absolute son of a-"

His loud laughter drowned out the rest of her sentence. Emma sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "Where did you even get that mask?" She asked, picking up the detailed wolf mask. "Ruby lent it to me. She don't know what I was going to do with it, though."

Emma ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh no. Oh hell no, Hook. You have no idea what you just started." She whispered. Hook, still giggling, didn't hear her, unfortunately for him.

Emma decided to go slow for the first few days, just to give Hook a little preview of what was to come. On Day One, while Emma was in the kitchen preparing coffee for her and Hook, she added several teaspoons of Tabasco sauce to his espresso.

Then, since she knew Hook would immediately go for the milk to wash out the heat, she replaced the carton of normal milk in the fridge with a special concoction of water, heavily blended spinach, and at least 10 tablespoons of cinnamon that she had created the night before and left in the warm basement for the entire night.

Converting the substance to an old milk carton, she placed in the fridge right in plain sight and allowed herself a smirk. As a final touch, she taped the sprinkler of the sink so that it would spray whenever someone turned on the sink, since she knew Hook would probably go there next.

"Here you go, Hook." She said innocently, placing his coffee in front of him. "Thank you, Emma." He responded, engrossed in a book. She watched him like a hawk eyeing its prey, as he took a sip from the cup. Almost immediately, Hook's face contorted in disgust.

"Holy- Emma, what did you-" he was cut off as the full force of the Tabasco sauce attacked his taste buds. He could barely inhale a proper breath. "What the hell- Oh God- Emma- Ugh!" He groaned, making his way to the fridge while frantically fanning his mouth. "It burns! Oh-" He yelled.

Just as Emma expected, he yanked open the fridge door and grabbed the milk carton. He opened the lid and drank straight from the carton itself. His features twisted as the realization came over him that what he was currently pumping down his throat was not, in fact, milk. This was the breaking point for Emma, who crumpled to the floor with tears of mirth in her eyes.

Poor Hook spit out the "milk" all over the floor, gagging viciously, then dropped the carton clumsily on the counter and proceeded to head to the sink. Emma raised her head for the grand finale, and was rewarded with a cry of alarm as the sprinkler sprayed water all over him.

At this point, both Emma and Hook were having trouble breathing, although for very different reasons. Hook finally locked himself in the bathroom, and indignantly refused to come out for a very long time.

Hook wouldn't even look at Emma for the rest of the day, and ate lunch at Granny's. He ignored her calls and slept at Robin Hood's place. While Emma was finding it annoying how Hook ignored her, if she said she regretted what she did, she would have been lying. She would randomly burst into laughter throughout the day whenever she remembered the look on his face when he got pranked.

She got him good, and neither of them could deny it.

Late at night, Emma came home from the sheriff's office and was ready to have her dinner. Hook did not make an appearance, which Emma had anticipated, so she did not prepare a second meal. She finished her soup and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She hung up her towel, stepped into the shower, and turned it shower head sputtered, groaned, then proceeded to spit out a strange purple substance all over Emma. She shrieked and hastily shut it off. She knelt down to the purple liquid and gave it a sniff.

Grape Kool-Aid.

The bastard.

She turned the shower back on (aiming the shower head away from herself) and watched the Kool-Aid swirl down the drain along with any restraint she had before. Eyeing her shampoo warily, she decided she would skip it for tonight and stick with soap.

Once she had gotten out, she wrapped the towel around herself and plugged her hair dryer in. She hated going to bed with wet hair.

She set it to coolest setting, put it to the highest speed, and turned on the hair dryer.

She could barely see her own hand through the flour.

It blew everywhere. The sink, the counter, the floor, and Emma all turned a pasty white color. The bathtub resembled a cloud.

She hit the off button, slammed the dryer on the counter, marched to the kitchen and dialed Hook's number.

 _ **I don't know if I will continue this story. I'm not sure where I'm going to go with it. But who knows. Perhaps**_ ** _someday you all will know what Emma wanted to tell Hook (but the rating would have to go up for that to happen)._**


End file.
